


All the Thanks Go to the Dragon

by blue_fjords



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-24
Updated: 2012-12-24
Packaged: 2017-11-22 07:22:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/607278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_fjords/pseuds/blue_fjords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prince Dean and Sir Cas and then there is sex.  (Somewhat a combo of two prompts.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	All the Thanks Go to the Dragon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [runoutofwit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/runoutofwit/gifts).



"You shouldn't have tried to take on that dragon all by yourself, Dean, are you an idiot?"

Dean winced as Sam pulled at an exceptionally bent buckle in his armor. He couldn't say which was worse, Sam's tirade or Sam's ruthless fingers. He'd get more bruises from Sam trying to help than from the dragon trying to burn him to a crisp. Well, slight hyperbole. On his other side, Cas gave one last tug and the breastplate finally stopped cutting off circulation to his arm.

"Two things," Dean told his brother. "One, you need to take lessons from Sir Cas here on proper armor etiquette and two, I killed the damn thing, didn't I?"

Sam glared at him. "You got lucky."

"P'shaw! I have skills! Mighty, mighty skills, which will make me the greatest king our fine realm has ever seen."

If he survived that long, he added silently. He'd never tell Sam, but he really should have brought Cas along on this latest expedition. Only he hadn't known there'd be a dragon terrorizing the countryside, right outside the tiny hamlet he'd traveled to for their—

"Ouch!" Dean exclaimed. Now Sam was just doing that on purpose. "Sam, why don't you go send Mother and Father a pigeon, let them know I vanquished the dragon, and you followed me for no real purpose, please have a pig roasting on a spit when we return?"

Sam gave up on his buckle with one last bruising twist of the leather. "Fine! I'll see you in the morning. Cas, I wish you luck with this doofus."

Sam strode to the door, yanked it open and shut it heavily behind him, despite it being made of thick oak. Sam was not best pleased with Dean, but he'd probably get over it by the morning, when he would remember that now he had a perfect specimen for studying dragon anatomy. Disgusting work in Dean's mind, but Sam loved to see how things worked, be they governments or clocks or dragons.

Cas knelt at his feet and set to work on his right shin guard.

"You pissed at me, too?" Dean asked.

"It is not my place to berate you," Cas answered in a clipped voice. Great, he was totally pissed.

"Bullshit," Dean said. "You're my most trusted knight, Cas. You always have leave to speak your mind to me."

"In that case, Highness," Cas said, deftly pulling off the left shin guard. "You are a fool."

"A fool?" Dean repeated, quirking an eyebrow.

Cas leaned back on his heels and glared up at him. "You needlessly put yourself in danger, when I am but a shout away and sworn to protect you. How can you be so careless with your safety? You have an obligation to your people. And you must know—" He swallowed, Dean watching the bob of his Adam's apple in utter fascination. "You must know of my high regard for you."

And Dean did know, though he had never dared to think of it as regard. Cas had been a recruit in the army of some lordling who owed fealty to the king, just another faceless commoner to pad their ranks against the might of the demon king. But in the climactic battle, when King John lay near senseless on the field with only his sons and Sir Bobby to protect him from King Crowley's most elite squad of feared killers, Cas had sprung up from nowhere. Light glinted off his shortsword, temporarily blinding the demon horde and giving Prince Sam enough time to hoist the king over his shoulder and run for the medic, Sir Bobby clearing the way. Dean fought back to back with Cas that day, protecting his brother and father and Sir Bobby. Nightfall found them still alive and safe behind the walls of their fortress. Dean had knighted Cas then and there, and ever since, Cas had been his dogged shadow.

Cas was always there, his deep blue eyes steady and watchful, always looking to Dean, offering strength and support. Dean's hand moved of its own accord, fingers carding the hair back from Cas's forehead, dropping down to run a knuckle down Cas's face, thumb slipping under Cas's jawline to lift his chin.

"High regard?" Dean whispered.

Cas lowered his eyelashes and leaned his head into Dean's stomach, his hands gripping Dean's thighs.

"The highest," he answered.

Dean's body was bruised and battered from the battle with the dragon and Cas's hands were calloused from years of weapon training, but they were gentle and sure when they tugged off Dean's belt and slid beneath his tunic. Dean shivered at the first touch of Cas's fingers on his skin and Cas immediately stilled.

"Don't stop," Dean said. "Please."

The word felt awkward on his tongue, but it was clearly what Cas needed to hear. His thumbs drew patterns on Dean's stomach. Dean's eyelids were beginning to droop when Cas leaned closer and licked at Dean's abs. Dean's entire body went on high alert at the touch of tongue to skin. His breath came faster and faster as Cas moved farther down, kissing and licking Dean's stomach while he pushed Dean's heavy hose down his legs.

Dean had done this with a dozen or three scullery maids in his father's castle, and one memorable time with Lady Anna, but no one had really taken their time or looked up at Dean from beneath thick lashes with an expression of such adoration while they nuzzled at the base of Dean's cock. Cas seemed determined to breathe him in, drink him down. Dean was reminded suddenly of the ball Lord Benny had thrown for Dean's birthday last year. Cas had watched Dean dance with all the maidens and matrons while he drank cup after cup of wine and danced with no one. Despite it being Dean's birthday, Dean had needed to carry Cas to bed at the end of the ball. Instead of depositing him in the barracks with the rest of the household guard, Dean had brought Cas to his own princely bedchamber to sleep it off. Cas had given him much the same look as they stumbled through the door.

"Cas," Dean breathed, and Cas took it as a sign of encouragement and closed his mouth around the head of Dean's cock.

Dean moaned and held tight to Cas's shoulders as Cas sucked at the head of Dean's cock with the same intensity he gave to his knightly duties. Dean was already trembling by the time Cas released him, only to press slurping kisses along the shaft. Dean stared down at him in fascination, but reared back with a gasp, his head banging against the wooden wall, when a finger pressed firmly inside him.

Cas immediately drew back, licking his swollen lips.

"Apologies," he muttered. His eyes burned hotly on Dean's face and his fingers hadn't stopped caressing Dean's ass. They felt…

"You feel so good," Dean murmured.

Cas cocked his head, asking for permission, and Dean nodded.

"Yeah, but – the bed?" His knee was killing him, damn dragon.

Cas stood up and stripped out of his clothes with his typical single-minded determination, and helped Dean over to the bed, lifting the tunic over Dean's head, mindful of bruised ribs. Cas was always mindful of him, Dean thought, as Cas rolled the hose the rest of the way down Dean's legs and pulled them off. Dean watched him as Cas rummaged through the packs he and Sam had thrown against the wall when they'd dragged Dean into the room earlier that day.

He'd seen Cas naked before, of course –drunk in victory, bleeding in defeat, shining in the smoky torchlight and gleaming with water droplets in the baths beneath the castle – but he hadn't truly looked his fill. He did now, though, eyes trailing along the lean muscles of Cas's legs up to his full and leaking cock before he tore his gaze away, flushing.

"Dean," Cas said, returning to the bed with a small vial of oil.

"Yeah?" Dean answered, less than articulate.

"Roll on to your stomach."

That was good; it'd be less overwhelming if Dean wasn't watching every move. He could hear Cas moving behind him, climbing onto the bed, and feel the touch of his hands, pulling Dean up onto his good knee, and then—

"Oh, holy God!" Dean swore. Cas's slick finger pressed into him, demanding acceptance, and Dean nearly whimpered at the pain.

"Relax, Highness," Cas said.

"Don't call me that here," Dean gritted out. It was painful, so painful, and this had been a terrible idea.

"Dean," Cas murmured. "Let me in. Do you trust me?"

"With my life, it's just – oh!" Bliss. Utter, utter bliss. "Do that again, do that again!"

"Don't give me commands here," Cas said, right in Dean's ear. Dean shivered and Cas added another finger, stroking and stretching. Dean began to sweat and his breath came in huffs of air. Hanging his head, he could look down his torso at his own hard cock, leaking at every swipe of Cas's fingers inside him. Another finger, and the pressure was almost too much.

"I've dreamed of doing this to you," Cas whispered. "What you would feel like, what you would look like – if you could see your back right now. So strong and beautiful. You carry so much weight on your shoulders. You will be a king the likes of which we've never known."

Something deep inside him unclenched at the words, softening at the same time Cas thrust into him. Dean howled.

"I have you, Dean," Cas growled, pulling out and slamming back in. Dean grunted in response. He doubted he could make any other sound, except maybe a whimper, which he did make when Cas gripped his hips, pulling him up so he could fuck into Dean while on his knees.

The pain dissipated, settling into a pleasant ache shot through with spears of bliss as Cas drilled into one spot, over and over again. He held nothing back, fucking Dean with powerful thrusts and moaning his pleasure. The wooden bed frame creaked and rocked, and Dean was sure Sam could hear it down the hall, but he was too far gone to care in the slightest.

Just when Dean thought he could take no more, Cas draped himself over his back and reached around to firmly grip his cock.

"The way you feel, Dean," Cas gasped out. "I've wanted to touch you for so long. Tell me I can touch you again. Tell me I can be inside you and hold you just like this." He began to jerk Dean off with strong strokes in time with his shallow thrusts. Dean babbled agreement, so close, so close. "Tell me I can suck you off and then fuck you. I want you to come in my mouth and on my body and inside me." Dean wept his acceptance, anything, anything. "Tell me you want to get on your knees to me and swallow me down."

That did it; Dean came with a shout, collapsing into the damp sheets. Cas still held his cock, pressed between the sheets and his body, and he was still hard inside him. He fucked into Dean, his lips and teeth closing around the spot where Dean's neck joined with his shoulder and came with a moan as he bit into the skin there.

Dean's breathing finally slowed as Cas grew softer inside him. He didn't want Cas to pull out, but damn if he could move to show him that. Cas seemed to know, anyhow, pulling Dean flush against his chest and tugging them back out of the wet spot. Their legs tangled together, their fingers lacing together over Dean's stomach.

"You like the feel of me here, don't you?" Cas asked, and licked at the bite mark on Dean's neck.

"Yeah." Dean chuckled. "I can't say I was expecting it. But I kind of don't want you to ever leave. Guess I should have seen it coming."

"Why's that?" Cas asked, pressing a kiss beneath his ear before catching at Dean's earlobe with his teeth.

"I came to this village to get you a gift. Didn't even know there'd be a dragon here. Thought I'd come on my own to keep it secret, but now." Dean shrugged, relishing the way Cas's body moved with him, their sweat-slick skin sliding together. "There's a master armourer who's moved out here." Cas hummed in pleasure and began to suck another bruise into Dean's neck. "He's made you a shield, Cas. With your own coat of arms, your glowing shortsword quartered with my fist, on a field of blue."

Cas pulled out of him, and Dean grunted at the loss.

"Wait, why—" Dean started, but Cas swung his legs over Dean's hips, straddling him, and spoke over him.

"Thank you," he said, his voice trembling with emotion.

Dean looked up into his face. It was a good, strong face, with sharp angles and soft eyelashes and everything about him spoke of how he belonged with Dean.

"Would you kiss me?" Dean asked, flushing as he hadn't meant to ask that at all. But Cas did, leaning down until their bodies were pressed together once more, kissing Dean as if that was his sole purpose in life. Dean wrapped his arms around Cas's waist and kissed him right back.


End file.
